Welcome to Frightening Mango Madness
How this fruit scared the crap out of me and fooled my doctor.
Spring is fully upon us and the damn mango tree in the backyard has spires of tiny fruit in abundance. Mango hell to be unleashed like never before in the 10 years we’ve lived in our home.
I saw it coming. The cool days were dwindling. Little flowers sprouting everywhere. An unstoppable dreaded yield’s beginning.
Memories of the mango trauma I endured are flooding back — the mysterious living nightmare.
Working two jobs coupled with family life kept me so busy I barely had time to do anything except sleep and pay bills between my obligations.
I earned an afternoon off from my job at Costco and just finished taking care of an account running my lawn business. Being sweaty and dirty, the time seemed perfect to pick mangoes.
Hundreds of the green fruit dangle precariously on weak taunting stems mocking me. Fallen mangoes must be avoided.
Rats and squirrels nip at the fruit. They leave fleshy remanents rotting on the ground. Wasps build homes in the wasting mangoes.
Grabbing low hanging mangoes and bagging them I am stung several times by wasps guarding their territory. The stings are annoying but I keep picking. I also made it a point to dispose of the grounded decomposing fruit.
The taste of mangoes repulses me but my neighbors and relatives love them. Mango smell is all over me. Juice seeps from the fruit as I break each mango off the tree. It’s sticky and emanating a sweet pungent odor.
Ripe mango scent invades my mouth and I tasted the tropical yuch!
My hands were sticky. I acquired 7 wonderful wasp stings and mosquitoes bit my arms, legs, and neck. After collecting a 100 mangoes my fruit picking afternoon came to a conclusion.
The insect bites were itching and I tried to resist but I scratched them. Debris from the mango tree fell into my eyes so I used my mango juice covered hands to rub and clear the irritations.
Waiting too long to use the bathroom caused me to rush inside and I didn’t wash my hands before relieving myself. I vigorously cleaned up and took a shower.
As the evening went on I noticed unusual flares of itching all over my body. Infernal, persistent bother. Fortunately, we had Benadryl. I swallowed the medicine and the itching subsided. I fell asleep.
But, sleep soon evaded me. Constant agitation awakened me throughout the night. I tried not to scratch and rubbed any irritations. My body blossomed in patches of stinging red blotches.
Exhaustion got the best of me and though the itches kept up their assault sleep passed over me for about an hour then the morning arrived. Opening my eyes became a struggle. Sticky goo glued my lids and lashes shut.
Rubbing my closed eyes with my palms loosened the gook keeping them shut. But, my vision was obscured and cloudy. The skin around my eye sockets felt puffy and a horrible itching attacked my groin area.
The bathroom mirror revealed the horror. My eyes were swollen. Red dotted splotches populated areas all over my body. My groin was on fire and my breathing was irregular.
Driving to the doctor required all of my concentration. At least didn’t have to go into work at Costco. I had Friday off but my lawn accounts required servicing. Luckily my doctor squeezed me in for an early appointment due to another patient’s cancellation.
(Maintaining my lawn service accounts, later on, required all my fortitude in getting through the hot, sticky, itchy hell.)
Explaining to the doctor about picking the mangos and being stung by wasps several times gave him some concern. He gave me a prescription for a strong dose of the medicine in Benedryl then explained how though I had not been allergic to wasps in the past due to my aging my body was changing.
I assumed my doctor was correct and took the medicine. My swelling and itching went away after a few days.
Weeks passed and more mangos became ripe for the picking. The accumulation needed collection. I sprayed the mango tree area with tons of vinegar and lemon juice 2 or 3 times since the last mango gathering episode and the wasps were gone.
Filling used plastic grocery bags full of mangos for family and neighbors gave me a sense of usefulness. My reward enjoyed by happy thank yous. Though I couldn’t stand the mango taste everyone else seemed to love them.
Mango tree sap covered my fingers and hands again. I didn’t think much about the sticky juice.
The next morning I awakened to eyes glued shut. My body itched all over. But, I hadn’t been stung by wasps. What the hell was going on?
Then the notion struck me. Maybe I was allergic to mangos. The idea seemed odd. I never heard of a mango allergy.
Rushing to my computer I wondered if my doctor ever considered or knew of mango sensitivity.
I have eaten fresh mango, drank mango juice, and eaten desserts made with mango but never had an allergic reaction to such foods. So, why would I have a problem with picking mangos?
Shazam! A Google search revealed the relation of the mango tree to poison sumac, poison ivy, and poison oak. Hidden in the branches, leaves, stems, and berries of the Mango, the chemical urushiol can cause swelling, blistering, and itching.
My new prognosis fit the circumstances. I found topical diphenhydramine (Benadryl) and applied the cream to itchy outbreaks covering my body. I also drank portions of the medicine until my allergic breakouts concluded.
I have been stung by wasps a few times since the first mango picking craziness. No allergic reaction. The stings are just an annoyance.
But, mango trees are dangerous to me. My mango tree yells danger at me.
Now, when I pick mangos I go in fully covered. My outfit consists of pants, a long sleeved shirt, an old, large, well-used windbreaker (with a high neck), a hat, protective side-paneled glasses, boots, and plastic gloves.
Absolutely no skin exposure!
I don’t care if it’s close to 100˚ Fahrenheit and I’m covered in a lake of perspiration while picking mangos. I’m staying safe.
Please be careful when picking mangos. Small efforts in planning to dress appropriately when collecting mangos can prevent unexpected itching and swelling hell.
Then, go for it and pick away. Enjoy your mangos in many ways.
The reward is great. Family, friends, and neighbors love my mangos.
Thanks to Melanie Rockett I have a fun mango song to share with you here.
If you like this story you may enjoy this:
Welcome to Frightening Mango Madness
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